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Daryl lay on the floor of the RV, trying to sleep. They should all be sleeping now, while they had a chance. But Andrea kept taking her gun apart and putting it back together, like that was going to do anything but leave her unprotected with a bunch of gun parts if she needed it—and in the bedroom, Carol was crying. She was trying not to, trying to keep it quiet so no one could hear her, but she was losing that fight, the fear and grief too much for her. He couldn't blame her; it was hard not to know where your kid was, he was sure, and the little girl had been scared and helpless, clinging to her mom with those big eyes watching everything all the time.

Still, it burned Daryl that no one else seemed to think there was the slightest chance of them finding her. Carol he understood, he supposed—she was scared as her little girl, you could see that, and as out of her place. But the others ought to have more faith.

'Course, none of them knew the first thing about the woods, or roughing it, or hunting or tracking or—well, anything that was going to be useful in the messed up world they all had to live in. Funny how none of them would've looked twice at a Dixon before all this happened, and now Merle's stash of meds was going to save T-Dog, and Daryl was going to find the little girl, and keep the rest of them safe from Walkers.

He lifted his head to look at Carol, wondering if she was going to fall asleep anytime soon. But you could tell she wasn't. She was just going to lie there whimpering, trying to pretend she wasn't crying. Behind him, Andrea was going to keep messing with that gun. And stuck here in the middle of the two of them, Daryl wasn't going to get a wink of sleep.

He sighed. Then he sat up. Somebody had to get some rest. And if it wasn't going to be him, maybe he could do something to make sure it was Carol.

His decision made, Daryl got up and grabbed his crossbow. He looked at Andrea. "I'm gonna need my clip now."

She handed it over.

"I'm gonna walk the road, look for the little girl," he told her.

In the bedroom, Carol turned her head and looked at him in surprise and appreciation, swiping a thumb across her face to wipe away the tears. Daryl didn't say anything to her, just turned and left the RV.

Andrea came out behind him. "I'm coming, too."

Dale was on lookout on top of the RV, and he didn't much like the two of them going off together, but neither one of them was about to listen to Dale. They headed off through the cars.

"You really think we're gonna find Sophia?" Andrea asked as they walked through the forest.

Daryl shone his flashlight on her face, shaking his head in disgust. "You got that look on your face, same as everybody else. The hell's wrong with you people? We just started lookin'."

"Do you?" Andrea demanded, as if he hadn't just already answered her question.

"It ain't the mountains of Tibet, it's Georgia! She could be holed up in a farmhouse somewhere. People get lost, they survive. Happens all the time."

"She's only twelve."

"Hell, I was younger'n her and I got lost. Nine days in the woods, eatin' berries, wipin' my ass with poison oak."

"They found you?" Andrea asked.

"My old man was off on a bender with some waitress. Merle was doin' another stint in juvie. They didn't even know I was gone. I made my way back, though. Went straight into the kitchen, made myself a sandwich. No worse for wear, 'cept my ass itched somethin' awful."

Andrea snorted a laugh and immediately apologized.

Daryl laughed a little with her. "Difference is," he said, "Sophia's got people lookin' for her. I call that an advantage."

"I suppose."

He could tell she didn't see the advantage. And maybe she wasn't wrong; maybe a little girl like Sophia didn't have what it took to make it in the woods the way he had. But there wasn't any point in jumping to that conclusion. In Daryl's experience, people often got tough when there was nothing else to do. Sophia could, too. At least, he wasn't going to give up on her until he found her, and he was going to trust that she wasn't going to give up until she was found.

It was the least he could do for the weeping woman back in the RV.

Once Daryl and Andrea left, Carol gave up any pretense of trying to sleep. She felt badly that her crying had kept Daryl from getting any sleep; she was grateful to him for going out to see if he could find her child even in the darkness of the middle of the night; and she was filled with guilt that she hadn't offered to go with him. Although, really, what could she do? When it came to the woods, she wasn't any more use than Sophia would have been. Out of her element, scared of her own shadow … She didn't belong in the world this one had become, didn't know how to be, how to protect herself. Even Andrea was doing better than she was, learning to shoot the gun and volunteering to go with Daryl.

Carol didn't wish for a moment to have Ed back to protect her, but she had to admit that she was kind of lost without him. Where was her place now that she was no one's wife?

She climbed up to the top of the RV to watch with Dale.

"Can't sleep?" he asked.

"I'm gonna wait for 'em to come back. You can go down and sleep if you want to."

"No. We'll keep watch together." Unspoken was the idea that Carol wouldn't be much use on watch, since she couldn't have shot an oncoming Walker or really done anything else useful.

"Which way did they go?" she asked.

Dale pointed, and they watched together, the cars dark and still in the moonlight. Nothing moved, much as Carol wished it would. Maybe if she stared hard enough, she could coax Sophia out of the woods, she thought. Oh, if only she could.